How the Grinch Saved Christmas
by TechnoScribe
Summary: It's the Atlantis Expeditions first Christmas together, and Rodney sets out to prove that he's not the Grinch everyone assumes he is.
1. Chapter 1

Strange things go through a man's mind when he's facing a horde of children expecting him to entertain them. They were not so menacing that his entire life was flashing before his eyes, but the past month certainly was. Rodney found him reflecting morosely on what had led him to such unlikely circumstances.

The diplomatic skills of one Elizabeth Weir had certainly contributed. The bribes offered up by Major Sheppard had certainly helped as well. But, ultimately he was just overcompensating.

For some reason, everyone on the expedition had been convinced that Dr. Rodney McKay hated Christmas. More specifically he had attained the title of The Atlantis Grinch. His entire science team had even gone so far as to turn off their Christmas music whenever he entered the room. He had been going to ask them to turn it back on the first time, but then he'd caught sight of a hastily hidden picture of himself on several lap tops, coloured in Grinch green and wearing a Santa hat.

Well, that was fair enough. He was their boss, after all. What else should he expect? He didn't have Sheppard's charm, Elizabeth's diplomacy, or Carson's…Scottishness. He was used to professional jealousy. So he'd let it be so long as it didn't interfere with productivity.

Rodney didn't hate Christmas at all. Sure, he had no patience for religious mumbo jumbo. And he never pretended to be good with children, yes even now. And yes, he was never any good at the whole family thing and was generally bad with people.

He had never believed in Santa Claus, though he had once sorely tried. He personally thought it was cruel for adults to conspire together to deceive innocent children to believe in something so incredulous. For a time he'd honestly thought his parents and teachers must be completely insane, or else that there was something very wrong with him. Reindeer couldn't fly. And while he'd managed to prove by the age of seven, through pain-staking calculations, that visiting every home in the world in one evening was possible, he found it exceedingly unlikely that Santa and his elves had the necessary technology or knowledge of physics to pull it off. Besides, reindeer couldn't fly.

Sure, he detested parties and any form of large gathering where he wasn't directing a science team, explaining a complex problem and solution, or permitted to be lost in his work. He could handle the odd appearance where it was necessary to gain project support from important people, but beyond that he'd much rather be somewhere else. Christmas was no exception to that rule. He didn't do social well. He would much rather stick to what he was good at. Attempting to do otherwise was… irritating.

But that still didn't mean that he hated Christmas. Who didn't like an excuse to eat copious amounts of food? Or appreciate the season's contribution to music history? Ok, so maybe he was one of the few who appreciated the latter. But the point was that he did not hate Christmas. It was in fact his second favourite holiday of the year, alongside Thanksgiving. Again, who didn't like an excuse to eat copious amounts of food?

It had all begun on November 28th….

**- Week One -**

Rodney had pulled an all-nighter trying to trace a power drain. It was a small drain. Some would say negligible. But Rodney was of the opinion that every little bit mattered. Any use of power that he was not fully aware of the purpose of could be unnecessary. And any unnecessary drain of their precious power was unacceptable.

Unfortunately, the smaller the drain of power, the more difficult it was to trace. And this particular ghost in the machine was intermittent, suggesting a system malfunction such as a door opening and closing, or perhaps flickering lights. His eyes were stinging as he stared at the screen. And he had the beginnings of a headache. But he felt close to the answer. And Rodney McKay could never give up on a problem when he felt close to the answer.

_Jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle_

Rodney cringed as his concentration was broken, and looked up from his work station in the control room to find Ford and Sheppard bouncing up and down and grinning. They each proudly wore a decorative jingling bell on their uniforms, with a little red and green bow.

Ford grinned all the more broadly at the bewildered look of the scientist. "It's about time! Do you have any idea how long we've been bouncing here?"

"My calves were starting to ache." Sheppard shared.

Rodney stared both of them down in annoyance, "And yet you road through the pain in the cause of annoying me."

"Yep," Sheppard grinned lopsidedly and bounced one more time for good measure.

"How noble." Rodney snarked.

"C'mon McKay! Where's your Christmas spirit?" Ford slapped McKay on the shoulder and leaned smotheringly close.

"Ow!" Rodney scowled and rubbed his arm. Couldn't they see he was working? "It's still November! Isn't it a little early to start celebrating Christmas? And can't you see I'm working?"

Ford backed off and frowned at the snappish tone in McKay's reply.

Sheppard narrowed his eyes in scrutiny and realized that McKay looked quite tired, "Have you slept?"

Rodney huffed, "What does that have to do with anything? And no, I haven't. I've been trying to trace this power drain."

"And it's taken you all night?" Ford looked incredulous.

Rodney squared his shoulders defensively, "It's a very small drain! Like a flickering light. You have no idea what kind of challenges are involved in tracing a flickering light in a city this size."

"You spent all night chasing down a flickering light?" Sheppard drawled disbelievingly.

Rodney frowned and shrugged awkwardly, "Or possibly a door… stop looking at me like that! I am not obsessive. Saving power is important!"

Sheppard quickly raised his hands in a gesture of peace, "I didn't say you were obsessive." Then he slowly made to back away from the crazy man.

"I'll say he's obsessive," Ford muttered and then grinned as he got a rise out of McKay.

Rodney released a frustrated huff before once again defending his dedication, "I would think that you two, especially you Ford, would see the importance of being certain of what causes any power fluctuation in an alien city in an alien galaxy that houses black energy sucking monsters!"

That wiped the grin off of Ford's face, "You think it's one of those?"

"No. I don't think it's one of those. The power drain is far too small for it to be one of those. I think it's a flickering light. But there's no harm in being certain." Rodney explained more calmly now that he thought he had at least Ford's serious attention.

But the moment Rodney had said that it wasn't an energy creature the cavalier grin was back on Ford's face.

"What's all this about?" Dr. Weir walked into the control room, each step punctuated by a distinct jingle. Oh, not her too.

Rodney rolled his eyes and turned back to his screen. Aha! Finally! The power drain was coming from the commissary!

"McKay was just being a Grinch," Sheppard answered in a tattle tale voice.

"Oh I was not!" McKay defended a little too vehemently before realizing he was letting himself be bated again. "And it's November! It's impossible to be a Grinch, or anything else Christmas related, before December."

Was that amusement glinting in Elizabeth's eyes? "Well, everyone has been a little homesick. I couldn't resist getting off to an early start. Besides, this isn't just about celebrating Christmas. There's also, Hannukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule, St. Nicholas Day, Chinese New Year… I thought it would be a good opportunity for cultural exchange."

_Jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle_

Ford and Sheppard began bouncing up and down again, directly on Rodney's last nerve. "Oh, for crying out loud!"

Elizabeth looked surprised at the outburst.

"Not you Elizabeth." He shot a glare at Sheppard, and when he turned back he was pleased to see that Elizabeth had cast a scolding look at Sheppard and Ford.

When she looked back at Rodney it was with a hint of concern, "You look a bit tired, Rodney. I hope you're not working too hard again."

"He pulled an all-nighter." Sheppard tattled.

"Just one!" Rodney defended and glowered at Sheppard. "I found a possible malfunction in the system."

At this, Elizabeth looked concerned, "Is it serious?"

Ford snickered, "No. It's a power drain so small that it's taken him all night to find it."

"As in 'flickering light' small," Sheppard explained helpfully.

"And I've traced it to the commissary. So if you don't mind I'll go finish up and, pending disastrous emergency, I'll take a short nap." Rodney snapped his laptop shut and made a quick exit, mostly to avoid being told off for staying up all night.

The last thing he heard before the transporter swept him away was Elizabeth's hesitant question, "Did he say the commissary?"

He stepped into the hallway leading to the commissary and was nearly barrelled over by Dr. Zelenka .

"Zelumpka! What is your hurry?" Rodney snapped, inwardly cackling as he mispronounced Zelenka's name again.

The other man scowled, "It is Zelenka! We have been working together for months! You are supposed to be genius, yet you cannot remember the name of a man you work with daily?"

Rodney stepped dismissively around the other scientist and strolled onward, "Uhuh, That's 'AM' a genius, thank you very much. Negligible as it was, I finally managed to trace that power drain. I believe you owe me three chocolate chip power bars. You never should have doubted me." He smiled smugly at his small victory.

The indignant look on Dr. Zelenka's face evaporated as he hurried to keep up with Rodney, "Yes of course, three chocolate chip bars as agreed for our little bet. But, I was just on my way to control room to tell you… is funny story. Perhaps not so funny at moment, but will be funny later, perhaps. I think you should slow down."

"What are you, nuts? Your rambling would suggest it's a distinct possibility." Rodney snarked as his strides increased. "I want to get this over with. I've been at this all night! The curiosity alone is killing me."

He looked over his shoulder at Zelenka as he strolled through the doors to the commissary. The man was cowering strangely outside the door, his spectacled eyes staring nervously at the room that Rodney had just strolled headlong into. Rodney quickly turned his head to look for the source of Zelenka's trepidation.

His laptop drooped, he let out a soft moan, and all traces of the smug smile he had been sporting was wiped away by the blinking Christmas lights that had been put up around all the walls.

He can't have been staring at the lights longer than a few seconds when Dr. Weir came in, followed closely by a grimacing Major Sheppard, and a grinning Lieutenant Ford. Ford stopped grinning when Sheppard whacked him in the back of the head.

"Dr. McKay," Weir winced apologetically, "In hindsight I think perhaps I should have informed the science department of our intention to begin decorating the commissary. At the time, we had some sockets that your team had already prepared, as spares, so I didn't think it necessary to disturb you. I apologize."

"Yes, well," Dr. McKay spared a glare for Ford, and managed an emotionless look for Dr. Weir, "You know what they say about hindsight." It wasn't quite an acceptance, but it would do.

"You should probably get some rest. Things will look better then." Sheppard suggested a little too gently.

Why the Major thought he needed to be coddled was beyond Rodney at the moment. He spared a tired eyed glare for him as well, then strolled back out the commissary with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Take the rest of the day off!" Dr. Weir called after him.

Dr. Zelenka was still hovering just outside the doors. He held up three chocolate chip power bars and looked like he was going to try to say something comforting or encouraging. Rodney snatched the power bars before Zelenka could say anything and continued his stolid march back to the transporter.


	2. Chapter 2

**- Week 2 -**

By the third of December everyone in the Atlantis expedition had donned one of the festive bell pins. It was practically uniform. Thankfully the novelty of bouncing up and down with them had worn off for Major Sheppard and Ford.

Rodney had been issued a bell as well, but he'd taken to leaving it his in his quarters after only half a day of wearing it. The constant jingling was distracting.

The problem was that not wearing the bell didn't help him to escape the jingling. He'd tried declaring a no-jingle zone in the labs, but every so often someone would forget, and the scowls and mutters of 'Grinch' when he mentioned it wore thinner than the jingling.

Two weeks of _jingle jingle jingle_ at all hours of every day! He kept losing his place in equations. With so many bells it wasn't even a rhythmic jingle. He'd finally put his foot down today and gathered all of his staffs bells into a box. Even when he promised to give them back at the end of the day they'd pouted and muttered, 'Grinch'.

He sat in his private lab with them now, humming the song popularly known as 'Carol of the Bells' as he carved out little 'bell silencers' from the packing balls and shaped packing boards that all their sensitive equipment had been packed in when they arrived. He'd known that keeping that had been a good idea.

Strictly speaking he probably should have waited and done this through his lunch break, but he figured that the increase in productivity the absence of the constant jingling would bring him more than balanced things out.

Besides, his spare time was already going to be consumed by another project. It was a project with a fast approaching deadline. Thinking about it made him nervous. He'd decided that he was going to make something. Just what was he going to make? He had no idea, yet. Being a genius, though, he was certain to figure something out in time.

It was only six months into the expedition and Dr. McKay had disturbingly found that many of the people he'd come here with were already more than just his colleagues.

People like Sheppard, Beckett, Grodin, Gaul, even Zelenka (no matter how many times he slighted the man by getting his name wrong), refused to leave him in his protective bubble. Strangely enough, his sarcasm actually seemed to only encourage Sheppard, while the others just shrugged it off.

Odder still, Rodney found himself actually liking it when he sat to eat alone and found himself suddenly surrounded by people who were going to eat with him whether he liked it or not.

Not that Rodney intended to get too comfortable with it. In fact, he'd done everything he could to discourage it. His utter failure at making them hate him was proven by his growing pile of Christmas cards, hand made. He found himself feeling touched by the effort. The hand made cards, more than anything, had convinced him that maybe he could take a chance on giving a little something this Christmas.

The truth was, it was impossible to completely isolate himself on Atlantis. Stranded in another Galaxy, each other was all they had. So, pathetic as it was, as idiotic and foolish and unreciprocated as the sentiment was; these people were the closest thing he'd had to family in a very long time. Maybe that's what family was, people who were stuck with each other by chance whether they liked it or not and had to make do.

Elizabeth was spending enormous amounts of time planning a great party for the expedition and the allies they'd made so far. Rodney hadn't really kept up with what Sheppard and Carson were doing, but he knew they were organizing some stuff and had been kept quite busy in their evenings.

So Rodney figured that, as Chief Science Officer, maybe just maybe he could get away with doing something nice… and even frivolous… just for Christmas. Maybe just this once he wouldn't be mocked or berated for wasting his time making something when a catalogue and express delivery was a hands reach away, or the worlds leading shopping centre's were a mere first class flight and credit card away. His parents had never liked a single thing he'd made them. Why would they? With all that money they, and he, could always buy something better.

Here in Pegasus though, there were no malls, Dior, no catalogue's to flip through. And two of his colleague's had come right out and said that this was exactly what he wanted. So he couldn't go wrong, could he?

Rodney finished cutting out the final piece of packing foam and cleaned away the debris. Then he triumphantly picked up one of the bells and neatly inserted one of the 'silencers'. Yes, he was a genius. It was the perfect compromise. He quickly worked his way through the entire box, inserting a silencer into each bell before picking up the box and heading back towards the other labs.

He'd think more on what to make as a Christmas present later. It would need to be something that the entire expedition could enjoy. Maybe a Ferris wheel? No, too dangerous to build alone, the effort would probably kill or maim him.

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Sheppard strolled into the largest science lab and found the bulk of the scientists plodding through their work. He spotted Zelenka in the midst of them and strolled over, "I understand we have a situation."

Eyes already magnified by thick lenses went wider in alarm, "A situation?"The military commander smirked lopsidedly, "The bells?"

The eyes immediately narrowed in annoyance at the room, "Who called military over silly Christmas Bells?"

"Actually, one of the marines saw McKay with the box and put two and two together." Sheppard explained as he leaned casually against one of the desks and his eyes fell on a shiny ancient gadget.

"It was our own fault," Zelenka snatched the device off the table and put it protectively away from the boyish man with the ancient gene. "We thought it would be fun to put our bells on and jingle only when McKay was in the room. He lasts two weeks before taking them and saying he will give them back at the end of the day. I think perhaps we went too far."

"Two weeks, huh?" Sheppard's eyes glinted with amusement. He was surprised McKay had lasted that long. McKay wasn't normally a patient man. He'd probably been trying real hard to go easy on his staff for the holidays. "Bet it was fun."

A guilty smile played across the Czech scientists lips, "Very much so. He makes himself easy target."

"He really does." Sheppard agreed whole-heartedly. Few things in the Pegasus galaxy were more thoroughly satisfying than teasing McKay.

As if on queue, the perpetrator of the great bell caper strode into the labs with a suspiciously silent box.

"If it isn't the Grinch that stole Christmas," Sheppard greeted jovially, sparing a brief glance of concern at the box. It wouldn't go over well if McKay had broken bells.

"I said I'd give them back!" McKay grumped defensively.

Zelenka and the other scientists looked openly worried, "Why are they not jingling?"

At this McKay grinned smugly, "Because they have been in the hands of a genius." The chief scientist theatrically drew a bell from the box and tugged something white out of it. "I made silencers."

A stunned silence filled the room a moment as everyone stared at the only man in two Galaxies obsessive enough to sit and carve Styrofoam to perfectly fit into so many bells. It was Sheppard that broke the silence, "You made…."

"Silencers," McKay repeated, obviously pleased with himself, "I made one for each of them, and spares in case you forget them in your quarters. We'll keep the spares right by the door."

Three or four of the scientists muttered quick excuses about needing equipment and exited with tears of restrained laughter. Others turned back to their work stations, with shoulders quivering suspiciously.

An oriental looking woman with large, thick glasses took the box, "Thank-you, Dr. McKay. I will pass these out for you."

With effort and skill developed through years of military training and experience, Sheppard kept a straight face, "Right. Well, since that's all under control how about joining the team for lunch? It's about that time."

There was a brief flicker of surprise and uncertainty, covered by an arrogant but cheery, "Certainly. I'm sure Zalooka can handle things here."

Sheppard would have hoped that after six months McKay would stop looking surprised when he was invited to eat lunch or just hang out. "See you later Dr. ZELENKA." Sheppard purposely emphasized the Czech's actual last name as he steered Rodney safely away from the science lab before the effort of holding in their laughter could start causing casualties.

On the way to the commissary they picked up Teyla and Ford for an early lunch.

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Aiden Ford was happy for the company. He was happy for anything to take the edge off of thinking about his Grand Parents right now. They'd probably wonder why he didn't even send them a Christmas Card. Steam rose from his mug of hot chocolate, and he wished he had a candy cane to stir in it like he would back home.

"It's a shame nobody thought to bring candy canes." Ford shared wistfully.

Across the table, their team scientist smirked around a mouthful of military food, "Oh yes, I'm sure we could have done without a few crates of emergency rations." He swallowed and took a breath, "or maybe one of those spare naquada generators instead."

Aiden narrowed his eyes across the table at the scientist obliviously shovelling into his food. Most of the scientists here seemed to talk down to the military like they were stupid, but McKay was the worst. "I'm just saying it would be nice to have some traditional food from home."

The scientist shook his head, "Not when you consider what we'd have to sacrifice to fit it. I still can't believe we packed Christmas lights!"

"You're sounding suspiciously like a Grinch again," Sheppard interjected with a wink at Ford.

Ford rolled his eyes and grinned back at his commanding officer. He knew Sheppard was just trying to keep the peace. He could always tell when the McKay was getting to him.

"I'm just thinking practically!" McKay defended himself with a hint of outrage.

"Candy floss," Sheppard sighed wistfully, picking up Ford's earlier line of conversation.

"What?" The genius seemed confused by the sudden leap backwards in the topic.

"You know," Sheppard drawled, "It's fluffy like snow and tastes of pure sugar."

"That's because it is pure sugar." Rodney stated that 'know it all' tone, "And it looks nothing like snow. For one thing, snow is white."

Sheppard grinned mischieviously, "Not if…"

Aiden snickered at the implication.

Rodney rolled his eyes and dropped his fork dramatically, "Some of us are eating!"

The snicker became an open laugh.

Teyla just looked confused.

"Sorry, Teyla." Ford quickly apologized to the Athosian member of the team. He sometimes forgot that she didn't get a lot of the jokes that were common back home.

"It's alright," Teyla bowed her head, "Although I am curious about your amusement regarding the colour of snow."

Ford threw an alarmed look at Sheppard, but it was McKay who rescued him with, "Believe me, Teyla. You don't want to know."

Teyla looked quizzically at the scientist, who had resumed eating, before politely moving on, "Then perhaps you could explain something else to me. What is a Grinch?"

"Here we go," McKay muttered plaintively.

Ford grinned and pointed at McKay, "That's a Grinch."

"A Grinch," Sheppard cut in, "is like the anti-Christmas."

McKay grumbled, "I am not anti-Christmas."

"I never said you were." Sheppard assured before continuing, "Anyway, this guy called Dr. Seuss wrote a children's story about a green monster that hated Christmas."

"HE was a monster?" McKay exclaimed, "Did you get a look at the freaky faces on those Who's? Not to mention the Who's tales."

Teyla frowned at that, "The what?"

"Who," McKay answered.

The Athosian's confusion increased and she began to ask with uncertainty, "Who is…?"

"That's what." McKay corrected.

"What?" Teyla repeated.

"Yes, you were meaning to ask 'What is a Who.' McKay instructed as though teaching a class.

"A Who?" Teyla repeated, thinking she might be beginning to understand.

"Bless you," Ford quipped, laughing at his own pun. He just couldn't resist.

McKay groaned, "That's not helpful."

"Neither are you." Sheppard directed at McKay before taking back control of the conversation, "When people sneeze we usually say 'bless you'. It's an old tradition and it's considered polite. And the Who's are a race of make believe people. They're like elves."

"Little elves," McKay interjected again. "Not Lord of the Rings Elves."

"And they love Christmas lots and lots." Sheppard quickly explained before Teyla had time to wonder about Lord of the Rings, "The Grinch really hated Christmas."

"Which I don't." McKay slipped in and then dug into his dessert, chocolate pie.

"The Grinch decided that he wanted to steal Christmas from the Who's so he dressed up like Santa and went down and stole all the Christmas decorations and presents." Sheppard continued after the brief interruption.

Ford nudged Teyla conspiratorially at this point, "Kind of like when McKay took all the bells from the science team today."

"I gave them back." McKay pouted around a mouthful of pie.

"Ya." Ford leaned back casually and looked down his nose at the scientist. McKay was being a jerk and it was time someone told him, "At the end of the story the Grinch gives back all the presents and decorations too."

McKay swallowed his food and huffed in exasperation, "I don't hate the bells! They were just distracting to work around!"

"Ya, whatever McKay." Ford leaned forward and dismissively tucked back into his food.

McKay just sighed morosely, "I should really get back to work."

"Already?" Teyla stood with him.

"I spent a bit of time this morning making bell silencers, so I'm making it up with a short lunch." Rodney explained as he tucked his laptop under his arm.

"BELL silencers?" Ford laughed out incredulously.

McKay picked up his apple a skulked away from the table.

"I will walk you to your lab," Teyla pronounced with a reproachful frown at Ford, and she hastened to follow after McKay.

Ford sobered and frowned at his team mates retreating back, "What did 'I' do?"

Sheppard regarded the young weapons specialist, "Think maybe you're being a little harsh on McKay?"

"I'm being harsh?!" Ford picked up his fork and stabbed his pie with deadly precision, "It's Christmas and he can't even lighten up a little? I'm sick of him dragging down the Holiday Spirit. It's tough enough without all his negativity."

"Home-sickness getting to you?" Sheppard cut straight to the real issue.

The self assured anger deflated from Ford, and he glanced away sheepishly, "Ya. It is. I guess I kind of took it out on McKay, a little. But he was just being so…. McKay. Why does he have to be so know it all?"

Sheppard shrugged, "He's confident….maybe a bit more than confident. But he doesn't know his stuff. It's saved our butts on missions a few times."

"I guess being a know it all can come in handy sometimes," Ford admitted reluctantly. But he added with a mutter, "I still wish he'd lighten up."

"We'll wear him down in a few more months. Before you know it, he'll be the one asking us to go to lunch." Sheppard gripped Ford's shoulder encouragingly.

"Right, that'll be the day." Ford snickered and stood as well. "You goin' to the movie tonight? I hear they're showing Santa Claus, The Movie."

"Wouldn't miss it." Sheppard promised.

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	3. Chapter 3

**- Week 3 -**

Dr. Rodney McKay was now conspicuously difficult to find during his off hours, including meal times. He was sweeping into the mess hall and back out with a sandwich so quickly and quietly that it was easy for even the kitchen staff to miss that he had been there at all. A sign that read 'Do Not Disturb' had become a permanent fixture outside his private lab. And his hours working around the city and the public labs were spent working at a feverish pace.

Naturally, everyone realized that he was burying himself in work because of his dislike of Christmas. Of course, when asked he would claim that he was picking up the slack for all those who had been attending festivities. In return, the many in the science department had put up pictures of McKay on their lap-tops, edited to look like The Grinch.

In the science departments defence, however, they had elected not to play their Christmas music whenever McKay was in the labs, to make up for the two weeks of jingling bell torture they'd put him through.

On this particular day Kate Heightmeyer, Katie Brown, and few other women, were in the gate room, decorating one the Christmas Tree's the marine's had brought back. Careful planning had gone into the colour co-ordination and design on the decorations. It had gold trim with an earthy trim, dark and light blue baubles and pink bows. All were carefully spaced so as not to overwhelm. They had just finished and were standing back to try and decide if everything was properly balanced. It wouldn't do to have more decorations on one side than the other.

"What do you think?" Kate asked the group.

Katie tilted he head thoughtfully at the tree, "I think it's time to ask one of the men what they think."

Miko glanced at the marines on guard, who seemed to be trying very hard to be unnoticeable. "I think perhaps that they would not give us an honest opinion. They would wish to be polite."

"That one wouldn't," a female marine pointed as McKay strode through the gate room, clearly cutting across on his way to somewhere else with a packed lunch in hand.

"Good idea! Put it to the Grinch test!" Dumais giggled.

"Quick, catch him!" Another woman hissed urgently.

It was Kate who jogged into his way and called out to him, "Dr. McKay. What's your hurry?"

He looked at her with the slightly dazed look that all the scientists got when they're been pulled from deep in thought, "Hurry? Oh… I was just, um, working."

"Do you have a moment to critique our tree?" Kate asked with a bat of her eyes and a smile. It usually set men at ease so that they would talk to her and answer any question.

But Rodney McKay floundered and stuttered, "M-me? You want me to critique…" He leaned to peek around her and his eyes popped wide at the gaggle of women gathered around the newly decorated tree, and he pointed at it. "That's a tree."

"Yes," Kate sighed, "That's a tree. And we would like your honest opinion of it."

His _honest_ opinion? "It's uh… um…" Rodney looked at it and searched for the right words. It was aesthetically pleasing. Actually, it was a little too aesthetically pleasing. It was like the Christmas trees he'd always had as a child, his mother having hired professional designers to do all their holiday decorating. He'd never really liked it then either. It just seemed to like it would be more fun to pick out a bunch of red and green and clashing decorations and throw them on the tree like a normal family. But he had enough sense to know that was not the right answer now, "well… uh…"

"Relax!" Kate put a hand on his shoulder and nudged him closer to the tree, "It's a Christmas tree, not an ink blot test. I promise not to analyze your answer."

Rodney smirked nervously, "So… if I told you it makes me think of my mother…?

"Rodney!" Several female voices scolded.

"Ok! It's um…" he looked at the careful balance and spacing, "It makes me think of… Feng Shui?"

Half a dozen faces lit up with smiles.

"Very insightful!" Kate admonished, "The design is inspired by a Feng Shui Christmas book that Dr. Kusinagi has."

Rodney blinked at her, not quite certain he had actually heard her or was having an insane auditory hallucination induced by stress, "Feng Shui…. Christmas?"

Kate nodded, "It's amazing the effect colour balances can have on the mind. We're going for calming, but happy. How does it make you feel?"

"Afraid," Rodney blurted and winced.

"Afraid?" Kate repeated. All the women looked at him in confusion.

"Afraid I have to go now," Rodney quickly covered. "I just realized I left a very sensitive experiment running unattended; hence the packed lunch."

He rambled all this out even as he darted backwards out of his room, then turned on his heel and all but ran.

"Well!" Dumais grinned, "The Grinch didn't complain about it so it must be good."

Nearby, the two soldiers on guard duty watched in sympathy. One whispered quietly for the other, "I'm afraid too."

"What do you two think?" Dumais called over to the two soldiers.

They exchanged a look of alarm before quickly answering the first things that came to mind.

"Great!"

"Very Feng Shui!"

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Rodney retreated from the 'Pink Tree of Emotional Balance' with such haste that he nearly plowed over Teyla. Fortunately, she dodged out of the way as well as stopped him from falling.

"Dr. McKay!" Teyla exclaimed when they were both comfortably and steadily upright, "Is there an emergency?"

"Not at all," Rodney blushed and straightened his science uniform, "I'm just running a little behind schedule."

A knowing twinkle lit Teyla's eyes, "Ah. Then it had nothing to do with the large group of women decorating a Christmas Tree in the gate room?"

The blush deepened in answer and he attempted to cover with a confident lecturing tone, "Ah, you've been introduced to the tradition of tree decorating then?"

"Yes." Teyla answered with amusement she forced herself to subdue, for the sake of the scientist's pride, "Major Sheppard informed me of it after the women asked him to help choose what colour coordination they should choose. He too fled in haste."

"He did?" Rodney asked in a pleased tone that held a little more actual confidence. "Of course, who wouldn't?"

"You might be interested to know that this morning's trade mission went extremely well. Far better than anticipated." Teyla adjusted the heavy pack on her shoulders meaningfully.

"Oh!" Rodney exclaimed in a conspicuously hushed voice, then looked around to see who was near. He then motioned for her to follow him into a tranporter. Teyla sincerely hoped they never found themselves on a mission where there lives depended on the scientist being inconspicuous.

Once they were alone Teyla spoke freely, "It will take a few days to prepare all that has been promised and bring it back to Atlantis, but the initial shipment has been generous. I brought samples of the herbs so that you can continue your experiments, as it will take the bulk you have requested will take the most time for the villagers to gather and prepare. Have your attempts thus far been successful?"

"It's improving. But I haven't quite mastered the method." The scientist admitted with a hint of defeat.

Teyla breathed in the pleasant smells that filled this corridor and grew stronger the closer they came to Dr. McKay's secret lab. It didn't smell like he was failing. "What is the method? Perhaps I can assist."

"That's part of the problem. I have no idea. But, I'm sure I'll figure it out." He lifted his chin and grinned smugly, "After-all, I am a genius."

"Then I am sure it will continue to improve." Teyla offered encouragingly. "And what of your machine?"

"That was easy." Rodney waved his hand dismissively at the solved problem, "Want to be my taste tester?"

Teyla bowed her head, "I would be happy to."

888888888888

Elizabeth looked out the window of her office and smiled at the Christmas tree. The ladies that took on the job of decorating it had certainly taken the task very seriously. Observing the men avoid the entire area had been an amusing distraction for the morning. It was just Rodney's luck that he would be one of those to get caught by the ladies while passing innocently through the room.

She felt a sharp twinge of home-sickness as she imagined how Simon would react to the entire scenario. But the edge was taken off of it when she looked saw how much fun the girls were having.

That was the idea behind all this. Every evening this month, and most meal breaks, had one or two activities that everyone could join in on so that nobody had to be alone or had time to dwell too long about how away earth was.

The events would culminate with a celebration on Christmas Day, which the Athosian's and some other allies would be joining them for. There would be entertainment, and some refreshments. The Athosian's were putting together a display of dance and festivities associated with their most joyous celebrations, and in return Elizabeth had promised a similar cultural exchanged. The intention was to mend some of the barriers that had risen after the recent falling out, and the Athosian's subsequent move to the mainland. She had to admit, that she was a bit nervous that the variety presentation she was organizing wouldn't meet up to the Athosian's expectations.

Elizabeth wished, not for the first time, that they had a proper feast to offer. But between avoiding the Wraith and exploring the power sources, the food trade just hadn't been going well enough lately. Reconstituted Turkey military rations would have to do. But the most important thing was that they would be celebrating together.

The only problem was that one man had chosen to be alone anyway, even more than he usually was. People had started to worry about him and wonder if perhaps he was lonely at all, wherever he was, and that in turn would remind them of their own loneliness for home. The total absence of Christmas music in the labs, though self imposed, couldn't be helping either.

That's why she'd called and asked him to join her right after lunch. She was watching his usual entrance point from the direction of the labs when he surprised her by stepping out of a transporter on the far upper level. He circled close to the wall and took the stairs towards her office quickly. Of course, she realized with an amused grin, he was avoiding the tree zone.

She opened the door so he could stealthily sweep into the room, "Thank you for coming. Have a seat." Elizabeth waited until he was comfortably seated before beginning, "I'm concerned that you've seemed a little isolated. Well, more than a little really."

"I may have been a bit busier than usual," Rodney admitted.

Elizabeth regarded him blandly, "You're working yourself into the ground. You can't possibly keep up this pace. And at this time of year you shouldn't be trying. We're not in the middle of a crisis right now."

Rodney gawked at her a moment, "Not in a crisis? Elizabeth, we're stranded in a foreign galaxy with life sucking aliens!"

Elizabeth sighed. He could be so very pedantic. "And we're still dealing with that, every day. But you can't possible expect everyone to work every waking hour of every day. We would burn out. Our people need down time. And this time of year more than ever they need a boost of morale. I know you can understand that."

Rodney frowned in mild frustration. When had the conversation turned to the rest of the expedition? "Of course I don't expect the expedition to work every hour of every day. But we're not talking about them."

"No, we're talking about you." Elizabeth agreed, "Why do you think you're any less likely to burn out or are any less deserving of some down time? I understand that not everybody celebrates Christmas, but we're all a long way from home. A lot of people are feeling very home sick now. As a leader you need to help set a good example and boost morale. I don't think it's asking too much for you to lose the 'Do Not Disturb' sign and stay in the commissary long enough to eat a proper meal. And you could stop working through ALL your evenings and have a little fun? You deserve it."

Darn, he was being talked into corners by a galaxy class negotiator. There should be rules about who she could use that power on. "It's not a question of what I deserve, Elizabeth. I'm just…"

"Hiding from Christmas?" Elizabeth finished for him.

"I am NOT hiding from Christmas," Rodney quickly protested.

Elizabeth regarded him disbelieving, "Then you're not the man that I heard was driven to his private lab by jingling bells and then made silencers for each of them?"

Rodney groaned and threw up his hands, "They were distracting!"

She continued light-heartedly, "You aren't the man I saw fleeing from a Christmas tree this morning?"

"Sheppard ran too!" Rodney pointed petulantly in the general direction of the military wing.

"And you don't think the Christmas lights were a waste of space?" Elizabeth added to the list.

Rodney sighed dejectedly, "Logistically speaking, yes, I think perhaps more vital equipment could have taken the place of the pretty blinking lights."

Elizabeth prepared the final blow, "And it isn't for your benefit that there's been no Christmas music in the labs for this past week?"

"Aha!" Rodney snapped his fingers and pointed at himself, "I like Christmas music, well… some of it anyway."

Now Elizabeth really was surprised, "You like Christmas music?" She narrowed her eyes scrupulously, "What's your favourite carol?"

"Shchedryk, by Mykola Dmytrovh Leontrovych," Rodney quickly rattled off.

Elizabeth could imagine the expression on Dr. Zelenka's face had he heard that. "Carol of the Bells. That's one of my favourites too. Are there any others you particularly like?"

Rodney shrugged, "Twelve Days of Christmas."

This was turning into a rather revealing meeting, "I never would have figured you for the partridge in a pear tree type."

Rodney's head took on an arrogant tilt, but the quickly tapping fingers had his side gave away his nervousness at the unusually conversation, "The math is… cute."

"Cute math?" Elizabeth repeated questioningly.

Rodney's eyes actually lit up as he explained, "If you add up all the gifts given in the song it comes to 364, the days in a year. The equation best used to calculate, when graphed out, is a bell. Oh, and on Pascal's Triangle of binomial coefficients it's shaped like a stocking."

Elizabeth smiled and responded diplomatically, "I had no idea."

Rodney clucked his tongue thoughtfully, "Ya, not many people do. It's weird, isn't it? I mean, at a glance it's so obvious."

Discussing the definition of obvious would have been counter productive at this point. So Elizabeth acquiesced, "I guess it's just one of those mysteries. But since you seem to like music I'm sure that Carson will be thrilled to see you when his Choir rehearsals begin on Monday."

The scientists eyes shot wide open, "W-what? Wait! When did?"

"It's for the Christmas variety show. The practice is in the evenings, at 7:00. Be there." Elizabeth ordered in a tone that brooked no argument. "And remember, no more sign!"


	4. Chapter 4

**- Week 4 -**

Carson was near at his wits end. It was an hour into their first rehearsal and the group had yet to sing a single song through. The rise and fall of Dr. Kavanagh and Zelenka's voices as they bickered almost counted, but could hardly be considered festive.

Alas, he had so wanted to put together something special for Dr. Weir. She was hoping for something intercultural to show to the guests at the party on Christmas Day. Unfortunately it didn't seem to be going that way.

"What about, I'll Be Home for Christmas?" Abrams suggested.

There was a rumble of discontent through the room, and Carson found he had to agree, "I think that might be in poor taste."

"It's a nice song!" Abrams defended, but whatever else he was going to say was interrupted by the distinct swish of the door opening.

They all turned to the door, and found Dr. Rodney McKay trying to slip in unnoticed. When he realized he was caught he cast a look at the room that somewhere between forlorn and annoyed.

Carson stood and gaped before moving to greet the new arrival, "Rodney! What are ye doing here? Not that I'm nae thrilled to see you! I just didn't expect ye would be interested…"

"Elizabeth made me." Rodney confessed honestly.

Carson frowned and sighed. He should have known, "Oh. Well then… come on in and let's see if we can make the best of it. We were just deciding what we should sing."

"You haven't chosen the songs yet?" Rodney looked at his watch and then cast his eyes around the room. A small table near the door held a pile of neatly printed out lyrics. He picked up a sheet and looked between it and Carson quizzically, "Then what's this?"

"Ah, well," Carson grimaced, "I had asked everyone to bring copies of their favourite carols from home."

"But Dr. Beckett didn't realize that, being from very different countries, we would very likely not be familiar with each others songs." Kavanagh groused.

Zelenka growled at Kavanagh and shook is violin expressively, "Is not Dr. Beckett's fault that many of us cannot play by ear."

"Now now, let's not argue again." Carson cut in with forced cheer.

Grodin frowned at Kavanagh's usual accusational demeanour, but respected Carson's desire to keep the peace. "Now we're deciding what common, familiar, songs we can do."

Gaul grinned excitedly and held up a list, "So far we have Jingle Bells, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, and Santa Claus is Coming to Town."

Rodney grimaced and barely suppressed a groan, "And how many of those did you suggest, Brendan?"

The young scientist shrugged sheepishly, "Most of them. But I can't help it if they're the most well known."

Rodney picked up the pile of lyrics and began to flip slowly through them while Carson added another chair to the circle, an unsurprising number of them were Scottish, some were Czech, Russian, and so on. He seemed to settle on one, and his hand moved to play nervously at his side as it so often did.

"Yer lookin' at those awfully carefully, Rodney. Are ye familiar with any of them?" Carson looked at his friend still hovering near the door and wondered if Elizabeth knew what she was doing. He seemed terribly out of sorts.

"Hmm?" Rodney looked up from the papers distractedly, "I've heard them once or twice… So you need sheet music so you can provide accompaniment?"

"Only for the songs we don't already know," Kavanagh answered with a belaboured huff.

Rodney strode towards the circle but, rather than sitting in the offered chair, snatched Gaul's pen and went to a table, "Hold that thought."

The group exchanged a look of confusion before surrounding Rodney's table and peering over his shoulder. Annoyance radiated off of him and he snapped, "Claustrophobic." The group backed off and waited while he carefully, but quickly, wrote something out on the back of one of the music sheets. A few minutes later he held a freshly written sheet of music out to Carson. "It's a medley of the three shortest songs on your list. It should get you started for this tonight."

Carson took it and looked at it in surprise. He couldn't actually read music, so he passed it to Peter.

Peter's eyebrow's shot up, "You composed this from memory?"

Rodney lifted his chin arrogantly, "Geniuses have good memories."

Peter rolled his eyes but didn't comment as the music was passed around to the other musicians. Instead he turned to Carson, "This will work."

Carson turned and clapped Rodney on the back, "Thank ye Rodney!"

Kavanagh folded his arms and regarded McKay, the only thing he found more annoying than the Chief Scientist's arrogance was when that arrogance was justified. Still, in the Spirit of Christmas, he put his competitive instinct aside this time, "So, what do you play?"

"Play?" Rodney repeated, glancing up from the rest of the lyric sheets.

"Yes, what instruments do you play?" Radek nodded at Kavanagh in a rare show of agreement, "Clearly you must play something."

A strange, conflicted, look passed through the physicist's eyes, "I don't. Not anymore."

Beckett was about to question the peculiar proclamation when McKay suddenly gathered up the sheets, snatched away Gaul's list, and headed for the door, "I'll have the rest of these ready for you by tomorrow night."

And Dr. Rodney McKay was gone as suddenly as he had appeared.

Katie Brown took a couple of steps towards the door and sighed dreamily, "He's so…"

"Arrogant?" One of the other women finished for her.

"Layered." Katie smiled.

888888888888

The next morning, Aiden and John were teaching Teyla Christmas songs over breakfast. They had just finished leading the room in a round of 'All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth' when Rodney entered. He seemed oblivious to the looks of disappointment as the room resigned itself to not starting another song. He had been seen outside of the labs so rarely lately that nobody wanted to risk driving him away.

His attention, as always, was completely absorbed in whatever work he'd brought along on the laptop.

Ford sing songed under his breath, "He's a mean one, Mr Grinch." He didn't see why they had to put up with McKay's usual attitude at this time of year. Someone really ought to put the jerk in his place and tell him exactly how he was being.

He stopped when Sheppard kicked him under the table, just in time for McKay to set his tray down and slide into a seat beside Teyla.

"Dr. McKay," Teyla greeted warmly, "We were just discussing the entertainment for the Christmas party next week." That was what had lead to the singing.

Ford snickered, "He probably doesn't even know about the party, or the entertainment, because he's been so grumpy. Everyone's been afraid to mention it to him."

Rodney frowned, but before he could answer Sheppard quickly cut in, "It's no big deal. I'm telling a story or two. I was going to play my guitar but I sprained my wrist." He held up his bandaged wrist as proof, hoping to distract McKay from taking the bait.

No such luck. The scientist stabbed his fork into his meal and narrowed his eyes at Ford, "I know about it! And I have not been grumpy! I've just been busy. I understand that life must get dull for you when there's nothing to shoot at. But I, for one, have work to concentrate on. The scientific discoveries we can make here are without end. We haven't even examined a fraction of the database yet."

McKay's flippant statement about shooting things only served to deepen Ford's own glower. It really got under his skin the way the scientists, especially McKay, treated the military like they were just dumb grunts. They were specialists, and the best Earth had to offer!

So he never would have made it into university. So his High School Grade's sucked. So what?! Book smarts weren't anything. Only people who had it seemed to think so. He was good at what he did, and he was proud of it. Who did McKay think he was?

McKay opened his laptop and began typing between mouthfuls, oblivious to deepening anger radiating from Ford.

Sheppard looked between his two team mates and decided he should try to bring them to some sort of resolution, "You know, McKay, maybe you could loosen up a little. Have a little fun?"

"What are you talking about?" McKay answered with a brief glance away from the lap top, "I have lots of fun."

"Do you ever do anything but work?" Ford challenged.

Rodney didn't even look up as he answered facetiously, "That's a stupid question. Obviously, I'm eating."

Ford felt his temper spiralling out of control, and he let it. McKay said whatever he wanted, so why shouldn't he? "You ever do anything but eat, sleep, and work."

"I have a few personal projects." Rodney looked fully up from his laptop, resigned to giving his full attention to the unpleasant conversation.

"That doesn't count." Ford proclaimed angrily.

"Oh? Why not?" Rodney demanded.

"Because it's science." Ford answered like it was obvious.

Rodney snarked defensively, "In case my multiple qualifications and chosen profession didn't make it obvious, I LIKE science."

"You just don't get it!" Ford snapped derisively, "You were probably one of those kids that joined science clubs and went to science camps. Pure geek."

"Aiden!" Teyla scolded, acutely aware that this was getting out of hand, and that the volume of their conversation had been steadily increasing.

"What?" Ford asked and held up his hands in a gesture of innocence, "Just ask him." And he turned back to McKay, "Name one thing you can do well that you learned just for the fun of it! Baseball? You're Canadian, how about Hockey? Or Snowboarding? So you probably didn't like sports. How about art? The first thing you drew was probably a diagram for a rocket engine or something brainy like that. You look down on everyone else because you're so smart, but your smarts is all you've got."

"Ford! That's enough!" Sheppard commanded sharply.

The military tone snapped Ford back to his senses, and having vented his frustration Ford now sorely regretted the outburst. Sure, he thought all of that some of the time. But that he had said it out loud shocked him.

Rodney glared at Ford before pushing away from the table with purpose.

Sheppard stood with him, "McKay, wait."

The chatter in the surrounding commissary quieted down as the rooms attention was drawn to the quarrel that had apparently gotten out of hand.

"Aiden," Teyla spoke quietly and with propriety but looked stern, "I believe you should apologize."

Ford found his voice, "I was out of line, McKay. You don't have to go."

But Rodney had already stalked to the head of the food line and snatched an entire bowl of fruit. He felt a small measure of satisfaction at the bewildered looks it drew from his team as he slammed the bowl down on the table.

They jumped and stared at the bowl, momentarily speechless with confusion.

Rodney picked out three oranges, relatively the same size, and tested their weight before proceeding to juggle them. He was uncertain at first, but it was like riding a bike. All three oranges shifted so that he was juggling them one handed and picked up two more. He shifted the pattern again and was soon juggling five oranges between two hands. He dropped one ball out of the loop and bounced it back up with his knee.

Rodney was vaguely aware of more people gathering around. But it was Ford that held his attention. The young soldier seemed to struggle between looking impressed by the display and looking guilty at his outburst.

McKay spread his arms to widen the circle and swiftly added another orange, and then another, as he addressed Ford, "It's called intelligence, not 'smarts'. The first thing I drew was our neighbour's cat. Science camp is a joke. The so called 'science' is so simplistic it's insulting to call it science. I went to drama camp for half the Summer, and later worked as a consultant in projects for various companies and organizations that are none of your business. I also had a brief interest in music, also none of your business."

As he spoke he shifted the pattern of the balls so that they criss-crossed each other, then hooped in an arch, repeatedly until it looked like the outer strands of a revolving double helix.

"Does this satisfy the academic question of whether I'm capable of having a life beyond science, Lieutenant?" Hands normally waving around expressively effortlessly balanced the oranges in the air, but his glare remained on the Lieutenant who was now shrinking self-consciously into his seat. "Is it alright with you now if I choose to find my enjoyment in science? Hmm? Or the next time you need an ancient device deactivated on a life or death deadline would you rather I toss an orange at it and hope for the best?"

"Rodney?!" Dr. Weir's stunned voice came from the head of the gathered crowd and broke through Rodney's concentration.

The 'balls' tumbled or flew in all directions, "Elizabeth! I was just… I mean I was."

"Juggling." Elizabeth finished for him in a tone of disbelief.

"No!" Rodney answered quickly. "Well yes. But I was going to say proving a point."

"You can juggle!" Elizabeth said, with a plotting glint in her eye.

"No I can't!" Rodney denied, his voice raising a pitch in nervous alarm, "Well, obviously I can. But I don't. Well, I did. But that was to prove a point to Ford. Which was really rather pointless and silly and I have no idea why I let him get a rise out of me just then." He edged away from the cunning diplomat as he spoke, "But the point is that I am a scientist, not a juggler. So I'm going to go do sciencey things."

Rodney disappeared into the crowd and was followed by the distinct swish of the automated doors.

As soon as he was gone, Elizabeth rounded a narrow glare on the two men still sitting at the table. "I thought I told you two to stop tormenting him."

"Me?!" Sheppard held his hands up in surrender, "Why do people always shoot the referee?"

Ford lifted a finger to point responsibility at himself, "Sorry ma'am. I lost my temper. It won't happen again."

"Damn straight it won't." Sheppard confirmed angrily.

Teyla sighed and looked at where Rodney had been sitting, "He has left his laptop behind." As always, it was filled with symbols she did not recognize.

"So he did," Elizabeth observed, and slowly turned the laptop around until it faced the two men.

Fords eyes widened, while Sheppard groaned and covered his, at the score of Christmas music displayed on the screen.

Ford took the lap top and scrolled down the screen, finding more and more songs before pushing it away and proclaiming, "I am a complete jerk."

8888888888888

Elizabeth woke slowly at first to the ringing at her door. She wasn't even sure how long it had been ringing, but a short and hesitant knock confirmed that she hadn't woken on the first ring.

"Just a minute," she called, and flicked the light on. Rodney had designed light switches that interfaced with the ancient systems, and fitted them in all the quarters.

A brief glance at her alarm told her that it was 4am. Who on earth would be knocking at her door at this hour? She pulled her house robe on over her P.J's.

The door slid open to reveal a sincerely apologetic looking Peter Grodin. She couldn't help but smile when he 'oh so politely' averted his eyes from her house robe.

She had been to London often enough to know that most Brits did not fit the stereo-type of prim propriety that people in the west so liked to have of them. But Peter certainly did. Perhaps he felt he had a national reputation to uphold. If so, she privately wished that Dr. McKay felt the same way.

"How can I help you, Peter?" Elizabeth was more than a little curious, and a bit concerned, about why she hadn't been called on her radio. Was it malfunctioning?

He shifted uncomfortably and looked over his shoulder before answering quietly. "I though you would want to know right away. The Isillian's just called. It's mid-morning on their planet. They want to thank us for the wonderful new technology we traded to them, through Teyla." Grodin's brows were furrowed with concern.

And Elizabeth's expression now matched, "But I didn't… The Isillian's? I've never heard of them, I'm sure."

Peter nodded, "I know. They're not a people we've traded with before."

Something like this so soon after the disaster with Teyla's homing beacon necklace could destroy what good will was now being rebuilt with the Athosian people. Elizabeth still felt terrible about the manner in which they had come to the decision to move the main land. She couldn't help but feel responsible for driving them out of the city. That fiasco had taught a hard lesson about jumping to conclusions, and about trust. Elizabeth refused to repeat that mistake.

Elizabeth nodded at Peter, knowing he had been thinking the same thing. "There must be a reasonable explanation. You were right to bring this to me privately." She stepped into her slippers and stepped out past Peter, "Let's go talk to Teyla."

Peter's eyes widened in surprise, "Now?"

"Before this gets out of hand."

Teyla's quarters were only two corridors away. Elizabeth had only needed to ring once, and Teyla's door opened to show her fully dressed and looking serene.

"Teyla," Elizabeth opened her mouth in surprise. She had been preparing an apology for waking the Athosian leader at such an hour, "We… didn't wake you?"

"I was just beginning my morning meditations, " Teyla explained, and regarded Dr. Weir's unusual attire with curiosity.

Elizabeth pulled her robe tighter, "Can we talk to you about something?"

"Certainly," Teyla stepped back to allow the two to enter.

A very British stammer replied, "Oh, um… well."

Teyla's brows furrowed curiously at Dr. Grodin's unusual behaviour. He was normally so confident and well spoken.

Elizabeth took the arm of the poor stuttering man and guided him into the room with a promise, "We won't stay long."

"Teyla," Elizabeth began carefully once the door was closed, "I want you to understand that I, we, trust you. And we are not accusing you of anything. We just…need to clarify something."

The normally serene look of the Athosian was replaced with worry, "Has something else happened that would cast doubt on me?"

"No!" Elizabeth answered too quickly, then was forced to amend, "Well… potentially. But that's what we're here to avoid. Appearances can be deceiving."

Teyla looked at the worried faces of both of the Earth people and understood that they were making a great effort to protect her from further misunderstanding. "Thank you for coming to discuss this with me. But, deceiving in what way?"

It was Peter who blushed sheepishly and answered, "A people called the Isillians said you've been trading with them."

Teyla stared at Peter a moment. This did not seem a cause for concern. "Are we not permitted to trade with whomever we please?"

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed, "But they called to thank 'us' for the technology we've provided them…through you."

The last traces of meditative serenity was wiped away by a grimace, "That does not sound good at all. I can see why you would be concerned." Teyla turned to Dr. Grodin, who was still looking shamed and apologetic, "You were right to bring this to the attention of Dr. Weir. Do not feel badly. Though, I imagine Sergeant Bates wishes to question this…."

"Actually Teyla," Elizabeth interjected, "He came to my quarters to tell me discreetly."

Understanding dawned on Teyla's face, "Then these are sleep clothes?"

"Yes."

Peter averted his eyes again and changed the subject, "We came to talk to you right away, so things wouldn't get out of hand this time."

Teyla bowed her head in the Athosian manner, "Thank you. I appreciate you efforts on my part, and your trust. I will explain my actions, but first may I offer you some tea?"

Peter perked at the offer, "Tea would be lovely."

Teyla poured an already prepared hot pot of tea into three glasses and handed one each to Dr. Grodin and Dr. Weir. "It is traditional among my people to always prepare enough morning tea to share with friends in case we are unexpectedly blessed with their company."

Elizabeth bowed her head as she accepted the tea, and was pleased to see Peter mimic the gesture. "Thank you."

"It is I who should thank you," Teyla corrected politely as she took her own cup. "The trades I brokered with the Isillian's, and a small number of other villages, were on behalf of a member of your people. It is for a surprise in preparation for your holiday celebrations. I promised to keep as much of it a secret as I could. The… technology is in the form of small advancements that an agrarian society would find helpful and valuable. Such as recipe's, and instructions for better wood preparation methods."

Elizabeth felt herself smiling broadly. She should have known that Major Sheppard would do something like this. Who else could convince Teyla to do conduct secret trades? He sometimes had more thoughtfulness than sense. "That's wonderful Teyla. Thank you."

Teyla smiled but shook her head, "There is no need to thank me. I and those of my people who assisted me have been well payed with a percentage of the trade."

"There's more," Grodin grinned, "The Isillians said that they have had so much benefit from the trade that they feel they were unfair with us. They said they wanted to send us enough food for a feast, in time for our celebration. I told them that I would inform our leader and that they would be contacted later today."

It was almost too good to be true. Elizabeth would make certain to thank John come Christmas day. First, he had been instrumental in helping to convince Rodney to juggle for the children at the party (no small feat), and now this. What on earth could he be planning though? "Well, that mystery is mostly solved then. I think the rest can wait until Christmas. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

Teyla nodded appreciatively and, not wanting her guests to feel unwelcome, introduced another topic to discuss, "I am curious. Are all of your people's evening wear so modest?"

Peter sputtered on his tea, "I should get back to the gate room. My shift isn't over yet. But thank you for the tea. Love what you've done with the place."

He retreated from the room and headed straight for the nearest transporter, very determinedly not thinking about the two women he'd left discussing lingerie.


	5. Chapter 5

**- Week 5 -**

After his uncharacteristic display of juggling, Rodney had spent a good hour frantically washing and rewashing his hands. When they turned puffy and red he went straight to Carson. Oranges!? Why oranges? Had he gone completely insane?! Were those hives? Was his throat constricting?

_"No Rodney," Carson had answered with an overly patient tone. "There are no hives. You're heart-rate is within the norm, for you. The citrus is inside the orange, I sincerely doubt that just handling one is going to harm ye."_

_"But it wasn't just one! It was lots! And believe me when I tell you there was a lot of handling!" Rodney bemoaned._

_At this Carson frowned inquisitively, "What were ye doing with them?"_

_"Can we get back to making sure I'm not dieing!?" Rodney snapped._

_There was another belaboured sigh and the physician continued with tiring patience. "Ye are only allergic to it if you ingest it. As for why your hands are red, how many times did ye say you washed them?"_

_"A few…." Rodney admitted, withdrawing his hands sheepishly._

_Carson smiled, "I think that might be why they're a wee bit irritated then. It's my clinical opinion that you're not insane. But, it's a touchy prognosis so I understand if ye want to get a second opinion on that one." _

_"Oh, very funny," Rodney had groused. Then he muttered a sarcastic, "Oh great," when Ford appeared with his laptop._

_Carson looked between the two men, then found something to be busy with a few beds away._

_Ford shuffled his feet guiltily, "I'm really sorry, McKay." _

_"You should be sorry!" Rodney snipped, "I can't believe you let me handle citrus! You're supposed to protect me!"_

_"I'll… remember that next time." Ford answered with a confused look._

_McKay folded his arms, "Then you're forgiven." _

_The Lieutenant grinned from ear to ear, "Thanks Doc. Oh! Here. You forgot your laptop."_

_"What's this?" Carson took the laptop and scrolled down all the finished music. How did he move so fast?_

"_It's almost finished." Rodney moved to take the laptop, but Carson stepped out of reach._

_Carson couldn't read music, but he could recognize that there were parts written from tenors, bass, soprano, and so on. As well as strings, wind… and each song annotated with the country of origin and a short history of the song's origin. Rodney McKay did nothing by halves. "Ye had to have been up all night! Well that answers any question about yer apparent lapse in judgement then. Yer over tired!"_

_Beckett had then sent him away with a prescription slip with a single instruction ridden in big red letters, "SLEEP!!!!"_

One good thing about the entire unfortunate experience was nobody was surprised when he didn't hang around for meals for the rest of the week. He had continued his obligation fulfilled once he delivered the finished sheet music to Carson. And Elizabeth had refrained from giving him anymore lectures about spending his evenings in solitude, as had claimed he needed the time to practice juggling. Juggling! Damn… At least he had a signed legal contract guaranteeing that she would never ever ask him to do it again, either directly or through a certain Major.

'Twas the night before Christmas,

And all through Atlantis,

Not a creature was stirring,

Except for a few marines on night watch, the technicians on night duty in the gate room, and two plotting team mates.

Rodney and Teyla had finished all the bagging, and wrapping, and tied brightly coloured ribbons around it all.

Teyla sighed as Rodney again attempted to straighten some unseen imperfection in the freshly cleaned and wrapped machine. He seemed nervous, again. "Rodney, leave the bow alone. It looks fine."

"It's crooked," he insisted, and began to re-tie it completely. "And this was a bad idea. I went way too far. Everyone is just going to think I was idiot for wasting so much time. And they'll be right."

It wasn't the first time Teyla had noted how little confidence her team mate had when dealing with anything outside of his areas of expertise, "Was it not your time to waste?"

"Yes," he snapped in a tone that said that was obvious, "But that's not the point."

Teyla persisted patiently, understanding that the aggression was not really directed at her, "They cannot be angry for how you use time that does not belong to them. And the time was not wasted. I think you have used it most productively."

"You do?" He asked in a surprised tone.

She nodded confidently, "You should not think yourself a fool for wishing to bring joy to your friends."

"Colleagues," Rodney corrected.

Teyla refrained from arguing. His actions spoke the truth, rather than his words. That was all that truly mattered. "Are you ready?"

He nodded and moved to the trolley holding the first load.

Teyla took point, as they would in the field, stealthily guiding the scientist down the halls and occasionally looking to him to check his life signs detector. It was great fun, and she more than once struggled to keep herself from laughing when they had a close call with a guard. For one evening, she felt like a child again; able to set aside the worries and cares that came with grave responsibility.

When they were finished, he walked her back to her quarters, then picked up the last gift and held it out to her, "Merry Christmas, Teyla. Uh… Sorry it's not much of a surprise."

She was more surprised than he could know that he had included her among his people, "I… am delighted, Rodney. Thank you." Whatever the scientist said in reply was stifled by a yawn. "You should rest, Rodney, before the party."

"Ah yes," Rodney grimaced, "Juggling."

They said good night, but he returned to the Christmas lab rather than to his quarters. The finishing touches and final tests needed to be carried out on the bag of tricks he'd prepared for the party.

He needed to give Elizabeth a performance that would impress the cast of Lord of the Flies.

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Ford grinned widely at the surprise he'd found waiting outside his door. Down either side of the hall similar expressions of astonishment and then joy were worn by marines and scientists alike as they picked up their packages.

A bundle of twelve candy canes, of red and white and red and green, were tied to clear bags of fluff in the same three colours. A quick taste confirmed that it was cotton candy! The tag simply read 'From Santa', but Ford could think of only one person who knew he'd been missing candy canes and would arrange something like this. He jogged towards Major Sheppard's quarters.

He slowed when he spotted a very large wrapped gift sitting outside the Sheppard's quarters, on a curtained trolley, as yet untouched.

Major Sheppard was standing outside his quarters with his eyes closed, savouring a mouthful of cotton candy from his own gift bag.

"Major!" Ford started excitedly.

Sheppard held up a hand to stall the Lieutenant, not wanting any distraction from the sensation of the fluffy ball of sugar dissolving on his tongue.

Ford took the time to look at Sheppard's bag, with the candy canes and ribbon still dangling from it. "Wait a minute? You didn't do this?"

The Major's eyes popped open and he looked incredulously at the Lieutenant, "Me? How?"

Ford shrugged, "I just figured since we talked about it…hey, yours is different. Everyone else has white, yours is yellow."

Realization smacked them simultaneously, "McKay?!"

They turned to the larger gift and found a tag tucked neatly under a perfect bow,

'To: My Team

Fr: Dr. Rodney McKay,

Thanks for watching my back, though I realize it's your job and, after-all, where would you be without the greatest mind in two galaxies? May your efforts continue to be successful.'

"I believe the tradition, as I understand, is to now open it," Teyla suggested from behind the two shocked men. She had been watching with great amusement, particularly at the yellow cotton candy as she now believed she understood their joke about the snow.

"Well, since we're all here…" It was so carefully wrapped he almost didn't want to spoil it… almost.

He and Ford tugged away the ribbon and ripped into the paper, revealing a shining new cotton candy machine. A quick look under the curtain revealed bags and bags of ground sugar and a few small vials of colouring.

It was then that Elizabeth came towards them, intending to inform Major Sheppard of how his trading had led to a feast this-afternoon. "John. I was just coming to thank you; though in the future you might want to keep in the loop."

John tore his boyish gaze away from the machine and shook his head incredulously at Elizabeth, "Why does everyone think 'I' did it?"

Elizabeth looked quizzically at him, then to the newly unwrapped cotton candy maker. Ford handed her the tag, and her she turned to Teyla in surprise.

Teyla simply smiled and shrugged, "I do not believe that Dr. McKay is quite the Grinch he gives the impression of being."

"Guess not," Ford agreed.

"Told you so," Sheppard bragged at Ford, then popped into his quarters and came out with a decorated envelope, "I'm gonna go find him and thank him now."

"Ya, me too," Ford agreed and jogged back to his quarters to pick up the gift he'd gotten for McKay.

Teyla bowed her head gracefully, "I'm afraid I must prepare to receive my people from the mainland. But I will see you later."

Elizabeth shook her head at the machine and decided to accompany the two men. No wonder Rodney had been so busy. Getting all this done in a single month, on top of his normal duties?!

But he wasn't in his room, or any of the labs. He wasn't even in his private lab. A quick call to the commissary confirmed that he hadn't gone to breakfast, and he wasn't answering his radio.

By this time word had spread about Santa McKay, in part because each time they failed to find McKay they were asked why they were looking for him. The science staff were feeling a little embarrassed at their misjudgement of the so-called Atlantis Grinch. They seemed to feel that they had driven him to attempting to prove he was not the Grinch that their wallpapers and screensavers implied.

Sergeant Bates was not pleased when he questioned the night security, "Are you seriously telling me that one scientist managed sneak around to every single set of quarters, probably making several trips, and pushing around a…"

"Cotton Candy Machine," Sheppard supplied.

"A Cotton Candy Machine," Bates grumbled, "and you, some of the best the U.S military has to offer, didn't see him once?"

"No sir," one of the men answered.

"He must have hidden all this stuff somewhere. Maybe he's still there?" Ford suggested.

Elizabeth nodded, "Teyla was helping him. I'll ask her."

"Teyla was helping him," Bates repeated in a grumbling tone, still upset at the total evasion of his security force, "Of course."

Teyla was reluctant, but given that Rodney was not answering his radio she led the group, minus Sergeant Bates, down to the area that he had set aside for his Christmas preparations. The scents of sugar and peppermint still filled the halls leading to the room.

Sheppard took lead, and cautiously entered the room. One never knew what dangers lurked in an alien city. It only took a glance to show the room was safe and he turned to wave the others in and held a finger to his lips to keep them quiet.

Elizabeth's jaw dropped at the sheer quantity of sugar piled against a far wall and sloping towards the centre of the room.

"The trade was far more lucrative than expected." Teyla whispered in explanation, "A full third went to my people for arranging the trade. Another third was traded for other supplies, such as the herb which Dr. McKay says is similar to your peppermint. This is what remains. I believe it was his intention to inform you of its existence and hand it over to you on …_Boxing_ Day. It is a luxury item on many worlds."

Elizabeth made a mental note to tell the Chef to cross sugar off his list of things they were running low on.

An Ancient worktable rested against one of the walls. Rodney was hunched over it with his head resting against his arms, sound asleep, in front of a row of coloured balls. His earpiece had fallen onto the floor.

"Hey, check out the tree!" Ford exclaimed rather loudly. He figured it wasn't like McKay was going to wake without being shaken for a few minutes. When he got overtired he could sleep through pretty much anything. They'd learned that the first time he slept through an attack on their camp, by some unfriendly natives. The long hike they'd had that day had completely exhausted the scientist when he was still used to sitting around in a lab.

The 'tree' was actually some wire twisted into the shape of a tree, decorated with Christmas Cards and every colour of dangling ancient crystal. Though they were cracked and broken they caught the light beautifully.

Though Sheppard had shushed everyone when they came in, he had taken to amusing himself by tapping the sleeping scientist on the head. "He's just overtired," Sheppard assured Elizabeth when the scientist didn't wake. "The party's not for a few hours. We should probably let him sleep."

"I'll stay and keep an eye on him," Ford quickly volunteered. Dr. Weir levelled a look on him and he quickly added, "I promise not to poke him or anything."

Elizabeth nodded, "Alright then. Have some of this sugar moved to the kitchen as well."

"Yes, Ma'am," Sheppard saluted sloppily. He couldn't wait to see the looks on the Athosian kids faces when they tried out cotton candy.

888888888888

_Bacon, eggs, freshly baked bread, and a pot of hot coffee were spread out on the table in Rodney's drawing room while he flipped through the latest science journal. He was reading a particularly interesting article to this months Nanny while she lay out the food._

"Rodney," a distinctly Scottish voice broke into the dream of home, "Time to wake up, lad."

He shifted and a weight he hadn't realized was there fell from his neck and landed by his head with a sploshing sound. Bleary eyes opened slowly and focussed on a hot water bottle.

"There ye are," Carson's voice greeted cheerily.

Rodney instinctively huddled deeper into the blanket he hadn't realized.

"McKay," Ford insisted, and Rodney felt his shoulders being gently shaken, "Wake up."

"M'up," Rodney mumbled through a yawn. He began to stretch out the kinks that came with sleeping in odd positions, but found he had none.

Even so, Ford started massaging his shoulders, "How's your neck, McKay?"

This was weird enough to still be a dream, "It's… fine."

Carson moved the hot water bottle and set down a tray of food in its place. It was bacon and eggs, and freshly baked bread, with a pot of coffee.

This had to be a dream.

"Give him a minute. He's not really awake yet." Ford advised with the wisdom of experience.

As long as he was dreaming about food, McKay figured he might as well enjoy it. He picked up the fork and dug eagerly shovelled some egg into his mouth. The taste and texture of real food served as proof that he was not dreaming and his eyes popped wide. Crap! How long had he been sleeping?! He dropped the fork and looked at his watch.

"Now he's awake," Ford informed Beckett.

"Relax lad," Beckett poured a cup of coffee and set it in front of Rodney, "The delegations are only just arriving. Ye have plenty of time before they'll be needing us at the party. Enjoy yer breakfast. I'd say ye earned it."

Rodney was confused by that last part for a moment. Then he realized that they must have liked the gift! And clearly they weren't mad at him. "Ah. You liked the gift then."

"Aye," Beckett chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder, "And I think we might have made some unfair presumptions."

"I know I did." Ford was quick to confess.

After breakfast, Rodney went to his quarters for a quick shower and opened the presents his team had left on his bed.

Major Sheppard had given him a renewable voucher for puddle jumper flying lessons, and a puddle jumper pilots licence that would be validated with the Major's signature. The voucher was valid for three lessons… at which time it could be renewed at the cost of two work-out sessions with the team. That man was underhanded.

Ford had given him an empty sketchbook and some charcoal. He understood and appreciated the sentiment.

Teyla had given him a blue wide-sleeved shirt with loosely fitted cuffs. It would look far more appropriate and be less restrictive than the uniform jacket he'd been planning to wear. He changed into it, grabbed his bag, and headed to the jumper bay.

88888888888888

Elizabeth found her mind drifting to how easily she had fallen into misjudging Rodney. She almost felt bad for pressuring him into juggling today. She would have, were it not for the reason her mind was drifting.

The Rathean's were just coming to a close of an hour long ceremony of joy and gratitude, involving standing very still with candles and occasionally making incremental movements that held some sort of meaning and chanting in a monotone voice.

The Jumper Bay had been cleared and decorated for the event, and the roof opened to let the sunlight spill in. The room was large enough to hold both the feast and had a small, slightly elevated, area that served as a stage.

Many of the adults heads had begun to nod forward. And, having already sampled a good deal of cotton candy, the Athosian children and the delegation from the planet of children looked ready to implode with boredom. It would be the Atlantean's turn show something next. They needed something a bit more engaging than story time with Sheppard or even music. They needed movement.

She was relieved, and a bit guilty, when Rodney finally appeared. He looked nervous and unhappy, but resolved to his fate. However, with his entrance the interest level in the room immediately increased. First the Atlantean's noticed him, then the visiting delegations, and the children, seemed to sense that something of interest was amiss.

Rodney quickly covered all hint of nervousness with a confidence that bordered arrogance.

The Rathean's completed their ceremony with a low bow, and blew out their candles. And there was a ripple as the audience bowed in return, as was the Rathean's tradition.

Elizabeth stood, staunchly resisted the urge to yawn and stretch, and mounted the stage with John at her side. "Thank you for opening this occasion with such a ceremony of such a fitting theme. Now, if he's ready, I believe our Dr. Rodney McKay has prepared a little something."

Thankfully, Rodney nodded and began making his way to the stage. Elizabeth grinned, "Then I give you The Great Dr. Rodney McKay!"

"You know," Sheppard muttered, "You're probably going to eat those words." Then continued more loudly, "Gather around kids. You're gonna want a good view for this."

The audience shifted until a small sea of children faced the stage, just in time for Rodney to set his bag down on the stage and turn to grimace at them.

"Knock 'em dead McKay." Sheppard called from his seat on the side lines.

The children leaned away and exchanged uncertain looks.

"He means figuratively." Rodney explained with a small sigh.

"We knew that!" proclaimed one of the children who had looked the most worried.

"Of course you did," Rodney answered sarcastically and flicked his wrists. Two red balls that had been hidden up his sleeves appeared in his hands. He juggled them simply at first, then bounced them off the back of his wrists. It happened so fast, the children's eyes popped when they realized he was suddenly juggling four balls. They leaned forward to watch more closely.

Halling smiled, pleased to see Jinto and the others enjoying themselves, and leaned over to whisper to Dr. Weir. "An impressive display of coordination."

Elizabeth smiled at him, "It is."

The Athosian children, and those who had accompanied the delegations from a few other worlds, seemed delighted by the increasingly complex shifting patterns and colours. The children from the entire planet of children, however, seemed to be losing interest.

Rodney had expected as much. He removed the balls from the revolving loop one by one and tossed them into the bag he'd brought.

The audience applauded, thinking him finished, but slowed when he began rummaging through the bag he'd brought and bringing out knives.

Elizabeth's eyes bulged. She was getting to know that Rodney was a man of extremes, but surely we wouldn't.

From a row behind Gaul laughed nervously, "They must be dull."

"They don't look dull," Ford, their weapons specialist, advised.

Abrams shook his head disbelievingly, and agreed with Gaul, "There has to be a trick to it."

"There's a trick," Grodin agreed.

Elizabeth turned to her military advisor, "John?"

"Definitely a trick," John nodded, with a wince at the stage as Rodney proceeded to juggle them.

The wince hadn't inspired Elizabeth's confidence, "Are you sure?"

"It's Rodney," Sheppard answered, "He freaked out after handling the oranges."

The Atlantean's relaxed a bit as the show continued and there was no blood shed. But there was no denying that their chief scientist seemed to be concentrating much more on the knives than he had on the balls.

Rodney's arms were starting to get tired. He really wasn't in shape for this anymore, and maintaining the illusion required precision. But at least he had regained the attention of the Lord of the Flies cast. Nothing less than shiny weapons and the impending chance of bloodshed would impress them for long.

He made a show of backing cautiously around his bag and letting the knives fall into it one by one. The audience clapped, and he reached in for the finisher.

"No way!" Gaul gaped.

Grodin stood in disbelief, "are those…?"

"Torches?!" Elizabeth breathed in alarm. Had she pushed Rodney too far?

"Nah, he wouldn't," Ford answered confidently.

No sooner had he said it then did flames shoots from the torches… and Rodney proceeded to juggle them.

"Impressive!" Halling praised diplomatically, but added with a furrow of concern, "Though I find myself wondering if that is safe in such proximity to the children."

Grodin's eyes popped wide, "He's gone mad!"

Carson bemoaned, "I should have recognized he wasn't acting himself."

"John!" Elizabeth commanded, "Put a stop to this."

But Sheppard had already made his way to the stage and was cautiously approaching Rodney, "McKay. You don't have to do this. You have nothing to prove. How about we put those torches out?"

Mischief glinted in Rodney's eyes, "Look kids! A volunteer!"

He tossed one of the torches to Major Sheppard, who scrambled to catch it. But his hand went straight through and the audience gasped as the flaming torch continued towards the edge of the stage.

Elizabeth stood in horror, and time slowed, as Rodney stopped juggling and the torches began to fall.

Then he grinned, double snapped his fingers, and the torches vanished in a cloud of light and butterflies, leaving little silver balls rolling around the stage.

Sheppard stared in complete confusion, "What the hell?"

Rodney made a sweeping gesture towards the dumbfounded Major, "A hand for my lovely assistant, as he makes himself useful by picking up the balls?"

John shook frowned at being called lovely, but picked up one of the balls and began examining it closely. It actually had small flat dents on four sides.

The children whooped and clapped. A few shouted, "He's a sorcerer!" and "real magic!"

Rodney grimaced, "No-no-no-no-no! It's illusion. Specifically, they're holographic projections."

The children looked at him blankly.

He sighed, "It's science, the things you saw were just light. It's completely harmless."

A little girl that reminded him impossibly of Cindy-loo Who poked her hand up and waved for his attention. But before he could ask her what she wanted there was a gasp from the crowd. He turned to see Sheppard with his head in flames.

"Well, that should give some people some nightmares." Rodney snapped, "Thanks for that, Major."

Sheppard pulled his head out of the flames, unscathed, and grinned, "That's cool."

Rodney rolled his eyes and felt around the handle of the torch, which suddenly became a red torch.

"Now," he turned back to the audience and pointed at the blonde head and snapped, "You, impossibly cute little girl, what did you want?"

"What were those little flapping things?" The little girl quickly asked.

"They're called butterflies," Rodney answered.

To which she wrinkled her nose, "But butter doesn't fly."

"I said the same thing to my sister once," Rodney replied. At the time he had been trying to teach his little sister to use the Latin terms, over lunch.

"What did she say?" Jinto asked, with genuine curiosity.

Rodney grimaced at the memory, "She said it does if you throw it, and then she threw it at me."

The children giggled, while the adults groaned.

"It didn't look like only light," another child whined in a complaining tone.Rodney rolled his eyes and answered snidely, "That's why it's called an illusion." The children looked at him, as though expecting further explanation. He huffed, "Look, does a rainbow look like only light?"

The children looked at him blankly.

"A rainbow." Rodney repeated and noted the total lack of recognition at the term. "A curved band of colours that spreads across the sky after it's rained and the sun has come up." As he spread his hands over his head in an arch, motioned rain with one handand punctuated the sun with the other.

The sea of little faces lit up with understanding.

"A Bridge of the Ancestors," Jinto clarified.

"A Bridge of the Ancestors," Rodney reluctantly allowed the superstitious term, "is made of light, shining through small drops of precipitation remaining in the air…" he looked at them then amended, "It's made when the light shines through the bits of rain that's still high in the sky."

"Like when it shines through a waterfall?" One of the children asked.

"Yes," Rodney pointed at her, "Just like that." He went on to explain about bending light and answering the children's interested questions for about half an hour, until they simply couldn't absorb anymore information.

Then Elizabeth announced that it was time to eat.

Jinto had found his father and was resting his head against his shoulder now, "My head is buzzing."

Ford grinned at him, "That's called brain fry. Have some more cotton candy. It'll help you feel better." He had a feeling the marines at McKay's table were feeling the same way. Rodney had managed to rally the scientists into trying to explain to them the relationship between the 12 Days of Christmas and something called Pascal's Triangle.

Major Sheppard wandered over to the table and said something that made McKay do a double take. The look on his face made Ford laugh out-loud.

This had turned out to be a great Christmas after all.

Elizabeth stood and addressed the room, with her glass raised in toast to the expedition, "Although we have many different traditions and beliefs that surround the Christmas season, I believe that the most important part of this season is something all of our cultures share. This is a celebration of joy in one another and in possibilities. It is celebration of hope for the future, and it is a celebration of giving. I know it's hard, not being able to communicate with your friends and loved ones on earth at this time of year, to let them know you care and are thinking of them. But, although our families and loved ones back on earth don't know it, your work here and all that you have sacrificed to be here is a gift for their future… And I'm proud of you."

Halling nodded and stood, "Teyla has often attempted to guide us to appreciate the gift of hope that your presence brings to our Galaxy. No one has before dared to face the Wraith as you have. I already owe my life to that. I may not agree with all that you do here. But I applaud your spirit."

And he did applaud. The other Athosian's stood and joined him. And soon all the visiting allies whom they had in some way helped were standing in a show of appreciation. The children began jumping up and down and calling, "Merry Christmas!"

_And it was._


End file.
